Non-erotic The Scarface I Hated by Trambak

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Then the caress stopped and a sweet sound of 'tunk tunk' replaced it. I woke.

My eyes were still heavy and I groped around blindly to get hold of the hand that I owned.

It wasn't there. How irritating!!

"Get up, tea is here." The owner of the missing hand whispered softly.

What nonsense! Who is he to tell me when to take tea?

The Scarface mumbled, "Manirul mian is here with tea."

Manirul mian was very carefully preparing tea using an elaborate procedure. Teapot, tea cosy, sugar pot, milk pot, bone china cups, everything was there. And the 'tunk tunk'? The sound of the spoon in the cup, that too.

Startled, I got up, thoroughly embarrassed. Mianji smiled sweetly and handed over the tea to me. Darjeeling orange pekoe, first flush, he informed us with humility. I looked at the tea. There was no milk in it!

"You must have it without milk." He said kindly. I took the cup and assumed an expression of knowing this entire trivia, since birth.

The biscuits? It was there too. Before I could be told their ancestry, I interjected, "Oh! Cream Crackers, I love them." Manirul mian was a trifle disappointed, it seemed. With an elaborate bow, he left us to have our tea.

"What a nice man," Imran said.

"Hmmm," I replied.

"He is really looking after us," Imran said.

"Hmmm," I replied.

"What?" Imran asked.

"Nothing", I said.

Precisely after ten minutes, he returned to collect the cups and it was time for the dinner orders. The one-act dialogue went thus.

Manirul: What would memsahib like for dinner?

Badasahib: What do you suggest?

Manirul: Anything memsahib wishes.

Badasahib: What is available?

Manirul: Memsahib? Have you tried the "Dakbunglow Mutton" and Moglai paratha?

Badasahib: That would be fantastic. What do you say Meher?

Manirul: Absolutely. Memsahib would love it.

Memsahib: Can we have some rice and dal?

Manirul: What? Rice and dal?

Memsahib: Yes. Can we?

Badasahib: Meher! Listen!

Manirul: Badasahib is saying something, memsahib!

Memsahib: Badasahib loves rice and dal.

Manirul: Some Italian omelettes then, to go with rice.

Memsahib: Only Indian omelettes.

Manirul mian exits in utter dissatisfaction.

Imran: Meher!!

Meher: Yes?

Imran: Ohh! Nothing, actually.

I slyly looked at Imran, trying to gauge his mood. As expected, he was trying to understand the genesis of the dinner menu. In all probability, he was accusing himself of having made some blunder, about which he had no inkling whatsoever.